


The Rains that Never End

by stingings



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Comfort, Crying, F/M, Friendship, Hugs, MaKorra, Rain, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-26
Updated: 2012-04-26
Packaged: 2017-11-04 08:22:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stingings/pseuds/stingings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's raining in Ba Sing Se when Korra wakes up after their escape from Republic City, and Mako is waiting for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rains that Never End

**Author's Note:**

> Sort of Sequel to Like You're Never Coming Back and Sink Me in the River
> 
> Also, they're at the house that A:TLA ends at.

Just being out of Republic City lets Mako breathe easier, despite the fact that Amon is still alive and in power, and they can’t go back. They’re not under the constant threat of death anymore. There’s no living hour to hour, praying to the spirits to keep them hidden for just one more day.  
But as he leans on the windowsill in Korra’s room, waiting for her to wake up, he thinks that he may be in hell. He’s sure that Korra is.   
It had been horror, pure horror, when they had been dragged over the side of the boat to be spilled upon the deck, and pried apart so that Mako could see Korra fully, a broken body on the wet ground. People had rushed forward, converging on them, taking her away before Mako could even get to his feet.  
Following them into the sick bay, he had watched as the ship’s doctors had muttered in hushed and concerned tones as Korra lay unconscious on the metal table, shivering in her still wet clothes.   
It’s the bones, they said, bones that had been broken but that hadn’t healed properly. Mako couldn’t bring himself to look away as they reset the bones, and he couldn’t drive the cracking sound from his mind.   
He looks down on her in the bed now, wrapped in bandages, drawing ragged, heavy breaths in her sleep, and he doesn’t know if she will wake up again. When she had come out of the Avatar state, he had been so relieved, but his joy had passed when she lost consciousness again, and didn’t wake up for the whole trip to Ba Sing Se.   
The healers say that she will be alright, but Mako doesn’t believe them. She looks so tiny in the bed that they’ve given her, the muscle from her arms gone after four months of imprisonment, dark bruises flayed across her skin.  
The room is bathed in a cool gray light and Mako shivers slightly as a breeze blows in through the window. He’s about to leave when movement comes from the bed, the first movement that Korra has made since that night in the middle of Yue Bay. She stirs, only a little at first, but soon her eyes are open and she is sitting up, staring straight ahead.  
Her eyes are wide, as bright a blue as ever, but there’s a sadness in them, and a little fear, too. She doesn’t know where she is.  
“Korra?”   
She looks at him and blinks. “Mako? Where am I?”   
“We’re in Ba Sing Se. We’ve been here for three days,” he tells her, “You’ve been unconscious.”  
The words are hard to get out, because it’s been four months since he’s spoken to her, really spoken to her, and there is so much to say. She had been dead, and maybe he had been a little dead too, leaving everything unsaid. Mako looks at her and thinks of all the things that he wants to say, that he needs to tell her, but he can’t. Just the fact that she’s there, alive and in front of him, bruised and broken yes, but still breathing, is all too much. The words get stuck to the roof of his mouth, in the back of his throat, choking him into silence as he watches her move to get out of the bed.   
Korra pulls herself to the side of it, teeth gritted against the pain, but she is unyielding. Mako winces for her instead. As she swings her legs out, Mako can see her biting her lip, and he swears that she draws blood. She tries to stand, but her legs give out, still not healed, and weak from disuse. Mako grabs her before she hits the floor, and pulls her back up to her feet.   
“You should really use the crutches that the healers left for you,” he says, and reaches out to grab them with one hand, while still keeping Korra steady with the other.   
She looks at them with disgust, but she takes the crutches, wedges them beneath her arms and heads for the door. Mako hurries after her.   
“Where is everyone?” Korra asks when they make it to the courtyard, stopping to gain her breath.   
She leans against the railing of the balcony, and looks out over the massive expanse of Ba Sing Se. The clouds seem to threaten rain, and the wind rustles the trees around the house.   
“They’re all asleep,” Mako tells her, “It’s still early.”  
He watches the skin stretch tight across her knuckles as she grips the railing, staring out over the city. Her eyes narrow and he can see the beginning of a question forming on her lips. Mako hopes he has a good answer.   
“What happened?” she asks finally, shifting her gaze towards him, “All I remember is opening my eyes seeing you, and all the water rushing in around me.”  
Mako gulps.  
“You went into the Avatar state,” he says, “You were going to drown when that boat sank, so I went back for you. You woke up, but passed out pretty soon after that.”  
Korra nods.  
“And how did I get here?”  
“Bolin, Asami and I were leaving the city anyways when we got captured, but the boat that we were going to leave on came back for us and pulled us out of the water. The healers on the boat tried to take care of you on the way here.”  
“Why were you leaving the city?” Korra asks, her eyebrows knitting with concern.   
Mako looks away and takes a deep breath.   
“You were dead. Amon had won, and you were dead and there was nothing left for us in that city.”  
Korra is silent.  
“When the three of you went over the edge, it was all over,” Mako says, “Amon took over and there was nothing that we could do. We tried to wait it out, but it was just too much.”  
“What about Pema and Ikki and Meelo and the baby?” Korra asks, her voice tentative, scared of what the answer may be.  
“They’re fine,” Mako says, and Korra breaths a sigh of relief, but winces, and clutches at her ribs, “They’re all fine.”  
“Thank the spirits,” she whispers, “Where’s Naga? I haven’t seen her for months.”  
Mako feels his heart sink. Naga is back in Republic City, held as a trophy for Amon, and with the escape of the Avatar, he’s probably killed her.   
“She’s...” Mako isn’t sure how to say it, so he just plunges right ahead, “They took her when the city fell to Amon. They’ve still got her.”  
Mako resists squeezing his eyes shut to avoid looking at the tears welling up in Korra’s eyes. One thing that he’s learned is that looking away from pain does nothing at all to lessen it.   
He can see Korra fighting the tears; he knows how much she hates to cry. He sees the same pain that he felt for all those months that she was gone and not coming back, and he wants to tell her that she’ll be alright, and that it’ll hurt less as time goes on, but he knows that it’s not true. It never stops hurting.   
“I’m so stupid,” she hisses, more to herself than to Mako, “This is all my fault. I’ve failed my friends and I’ve failed the world.”  
“No, you haven’t. You haven’t failed, you’ve resisted Amon for four months, Korra. Four months without giving him what he wants. That’s not failing.”  
There’s a light rain now, nothing like the storm that nearly consumed Mako all those months ago. It’s not heavy, but the rain never seems to cease.   
“I let him torture Tenzin and Jinora, I let him take over the city, I let him nearly kill you, and only stopped him because I went into the Avatar state,” she says and Mako can hear the tears creeping into her voice.   
“You didn’t let him do anything. It’s not over, and you didn’t let him win,” Mako says firmly, “And don’t worry about me. I’m not worth the risk.”  
He puts a hand on her shoulder, and she turns towards him, still gripping the railing.   
“Shut up,” she tells him flatly, “Of course you are.”  
Korra leans into him, and Mako wraps his arms around her, hugging her as tightly as her injuries allow. That she is there, actually there in his arms, and not a ghost in dream, is too much for him and everything that he’s felt from the moment he lost her until the moment that she woke up that morning comes pouring out. Tears leak from his eyes before he can stop them.   
The comforting sound of raindrops hitting rooftops masks the sharp breaths that he takes, and Mako buries his face in Korra’s neck, the smell of her drawing him in deeply, and he tries to capture her entire essence with a single breath.   
She’s crying too, slowly moving her arms to wrap around Mako, despite the pain that it causes her. Korra’s fingers are shaking slightly as she brushes them across the nape of his neck, and Mako can feel her body convulse as she cries for everything that she couldn’t do.   
He touches her face, and their forehead press together as they stand on the balcony overlooking Ba Sing Se.   
Their tears are lost in the rain.


End file.
